


Standby for Shore Bombardment

by dader81



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, 艦隊これくしょん | Kantai Collection
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dader81/pseuds/dader81
Summary: We all know Taylor triggered in her locker. This time she got a very different power, lets say five turrets of 5 inch naval guns worth of power. Heads up Brockton Bay and Standby for Shore Bombardment!
Comments: 15
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Insert funny Disclaimer*  
> (For real, I don't own any of this, and make no profit of it)  
> At the moment the Title and summary are temporary and subject to change once I figure out where this is going.  
> This is a plot bunny that's been in my head since I read Selectors Haze Gray and JGregory32s The Little Ship that Could.  
> No disrespect is intended to either work, nor do I intent to copy them.  
> English is not my first language, so a beta reader going forward would be welcome. Let me know what you think of it.

She could feel water under her bow, cleaving through the cold North Atlantic. No contacts on her RADAR, SONAR or other sensors.   
Wait, since when did she have sensors? A small, maybe 20 cm high person appeared on her shoulder mumbling a soft: “Hey!”  
“What do you mean I am a SHIP???”, she screamed at the tiny parson in a US Navy Captains uniform.   
A second tiny person appeared in her not so small anymore cleavage, this one wearing a machinist’s coveralls smeared with all matter of fluids. 

“Hey!” She shook her head; this could not be happening. “I’m not going to calm down! This is bad, so very bad…”   
The tiny Chief got much sterner “Hey! HEY!” Now she turned to him. “What do you mean my boilers are in the red?”   
He pointed at the open ocean around them. “Hey, hey. Hey.” A third tiny guy, this one dressed in plain clothes, started to climb from her cleavage.   
He was much softer: “Hey.” 

Their explanations were beginning to calm her down, and a pressing feeling in her gut started to go down.   
“So, you are saying I triggered as a parahuman.” The tree tiny figures nodded. “And now I am a ship.”   
Even as she spoke the words, she could feel the truth of it.   
Somewhere deep inside of her she could feel her boilers, the driveshafts, fuel bunkers, ammo stores, the mess of corridors and bulkheads that were now a part of her. 

PING! Suddenly, Taylor could feel her sonar. There was something out there.   
In her minds eye she could suddenly see her bridge, as tiny people ran around getting her ready for possible action.   
The Captain on her shoulder suddenly pulled old fashioned headphones out of nowhere. “Hey?” Waiting a second, he looked at her. “Hey!”   
“Sonar has acquired a target moving away from us at great speed, far faster then conventional drives allow, especially as it is diving at the same time.”   
He nodded. “A tinker vessel?” There was no submarine tinker as far as she knew. Suddenly she felt dread, “Leviathan?”   
The second Endbringer had wreaked havoc on several costal areas.   
“Hey.” She could hear the sonar operator on her bridge.   
“True, why would he move away from us, he attacks powerful parahumans when he encounters them.”   
Waiting nearly motion less for several long minutes she had her sonar follow the heading of the unknown contact till it left her range. 

Once that was confirmed she began plotting her course towards Brockton Bay, feeling a growing hunger and thirst.


	2. Chapter 2

Brockton Bay had at one point been one of the premier ports of the eastern seaboard of the US, but the last few decades had taken their toll on the once proud port.

One of the remnants of that far more industrious past was the Brockton tank farm, a huge storage areal for various oil and fuel products.

In the past it had supplied several dozen merchant vessels, including mid-sized container ships, a week.

The huge, round and squat tanks had stood abandoned on the northern side of the bay since the riots had sunk one of the container ships in the mouth of the by and effectively blocked the entrance to the harbour for larger traffic.

Among these tanks Taylor sat, leaning her back against one of them while her tiny crewmen, Fairies they wanted to be called, began to refuel her.

She already could fell the levels in the bunkers rising. A Fairy in a midshipman’s uniform and a clipboard was watching everything with hawks’ eyes from her shoulders.

“Hey! Hey!” She turned her head to him? ‘yes that would work’, she figured.

“Bunkering will take another half hour at least, so now where do we get ammo? Our stores are dangerously low, and frankly, I would feel much safer if all was in ship shape, excuse my pun.” The tiny midshipman frowned at her.

Even her Captain stuck his head out of her cleavage and wasn’t that a strange feeling. “Hey?” The Captain looked around, vanished for a few seconds, and reappeared holding a paperback.

Next to him her Chief Engineer popped his head up: “Hey! Hey! Hey!” Looking down at them she went slightly cross eyed.

“We can build it if we get the raw materials, really? Or we need to find a supply depot, but I don’t think the one that was near the docks during the war has anything left.”

The chief vanished again and in his place the XO started to scramble up her chest. “Hey!” Brandishing a stack of forms, he grinned like a loon.

“What do you mean requisition them? Are you mad, am _I_ mad? Wait, I am talking to myself, my power or whatever… What the hell happened to me?!”

The Captain and the XO shared a look, and the later wacked her nose with the stack of papers in his hand. “What was that for?” “Hey!”

Meanwhile the Captain had ducked down and remerged with another book. She looked at it almost reverently, this was her _Logbook_.

The leather-bound book with _USS Taylor_ embossed in gold on it was nothing special in that regard, but she knew deep inside of her that this was important, far more so then she could put into words.

With shaky hands she took it from him, it grew to fit her she noted abstinently.

Carefully opening it she started to page through it, memories coming to her in flashes as she saw certain dates, her service in the Pacific, long patrols during the Cold War, Korea, Vietnam.

With a shudder she pushed that from her mind, while she was immensely proud of her service, now was not the time to dwell on it, she needed answers dammit.

Finally, she was on the last page, and there black on white in the neat cursive of the captain fairy was written:

* * *

United States Ship USS Taylor Monday, Jan 3rd 2011

_Summoned from the Abyss. Duty must be performed._ Hostile forces cornered _USS Taylor_ at 08:32. _USS Taylor_ was then forced into a locker filled with hazardous materials.

 _USS Taylor_ was unable to free herself from locker under her own power, severe mental trauma occurred.

During the attempt at freeing herself the ship was damaged, primarily at the hands, arms, and knees.

Repairs were immediately carried out once the ship woke up, and using the full extent of the Rigging broke the locker, given the state of the ship,

both mental and physical the Captain withdrew to open water till repairs could be finished and the state of the ship be properly assed.

* * *

Reading it the memories suddenly flooded her, Sophia, Emma, the locker, the smell… She fainted.

* * *

The scene would not have been out of place in a war zone, or the side of a natural disaster.

Were once stood the eastern side of Winslow High School now as a broken husk of a building, the entire outer wall was missing, laying broken in rubble on the parking lot.

A massive trench lead from what at one point been the ground floor hallway on that side of the school toward the waterfront near the boardwalk.

“What can you tell me?” The gruff voice of Armsmaster questioned the PRT trooper that had been the first to arrive at the site.

“Not much.” He looked around and pointed toward the trench.

“This gets smaller after about 600 yards, and then there are footsteps in the concrete, those vanish after another 300-400 yards, the guys are still measuring it.” Nodding in the direction of the ruins.

“We think it came from the area were the lockers are, its not an explosive or anything like that. Maurilio says it all points towards a trigger, a changer or breaker state that caused the fresh trigger to grow, and to such a size and weight that it left that.”

He once more nodded in the direction of the trench.

 _That_ , was worrying, given the force required the newly triggered parahuman would have to be several dozen tones heavy, at least.

And that was so far out of the norm, such as it existed with parahumans and powers, to be very concerning.

“Anybody hurt?” The event had happened during the night, around 9 PM, and the school had been closed but given the destruction around he wanted to be sure.

“Nobody has been found, we do have a report of a girl missing since first period, one of the teachers a Miss Knotts, told us she did not come to her class today, very unusual for her. Her father had even called the school as she did not come home after.”

It was protocol in such a case to not give the name in public, one did not want to accidently out a newly triggered parahuman.

Miss Militia walked up to him. “We have not heard from Shadow Stalker yet, but it does look like a trigger.” She played with her power, fiddling with a knife on her thigh.

“We think she went out into the water, some people called the PRT about a cape walking on water around that time.” One of the techs called from with in the ruined building.

“We found something!” The two protectorate capes looked at each other and went in. The tech was holding a shovel pointing at a mess of twisted and broken metal.

“That used to be the lockers, and let me tell you its not pretty…” He pulled a plate to the side, revealing a glob of used tampons, pads and other bathroom waste.

It was disgusting, bugs were crawling all over it, and the smell was so powerful he had to suppress his gagging. Twitching his nose, a clear plastic sild to cover it, and an air filter kicked in.

“From what we can tell this is the origin of the event. If she was in her locker…”

The tech shook his head, he had seen a lot of disturbing things in his time, Hookwolf and Lung booth has some very traumatising MOs, but this was aimed at children for gods shake.

Armsmaster nodded and begun to twirl his moustache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the Kuddos, reviews and comments.   
> Any thoughts and comments are welcome, and if anyone wants to be my beta, please let me know.


End file.
